Oversized Hoodies and Apples
by Ellanova
Summary: Bella is struggling with a sever eating disorder, and is sent to a clinic in Seattle where she meets a boy who has his own demons. Will they recover together, or drag each other down? TRIGGER WARNING: This story goes into lots of graphic details about eating disorders, and self harm.


p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica; -webkit-text-stroke-color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"span style="font-kerning: none;"In that moment, all Bella could focus on was the food in front of her. She had caved in, given up. After all, the only food she had eaten that day was 2 dry rice cakes, /span6 grapes and an apple. Today had been a 'good day'. But she felt weak, all she wanted was to eat and her mind went into overdrive. before she could change her mind; she grabbed the pan and started cooking a bowl of steaming, delicious pasta. In the mean time, Bella grabbed what ever was in sight. A bag of crisps, a single bread roll, half a bar of dark chocolate and 2 pots of soya yoghurt. By this time the guilt had already started to set in. "Weak." "Fat" "Useless" her mind was screaming at her. But she kept going hands shaking she drained the pasta and covered it in sauce. In her eagerness to eat she had cooked up way too much food, but as it sat in front of her, Bella she might as well eat it. She knew she would not let herself eat anything after this one failure, so she might as well make the most of it. /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica; -webkit-text-stroke-color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"span style="font-kerning: none;"As forkful after forkful went into Bella's mouth and into her stomach, the dreaded feeling of guilt was building up and up until a single tear rolled down her cheek and she pushed the remaining food away. /span/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica; -webkit-text-stroke-color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; min-height: 13px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica; -webkit-text-stroke-color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"span style="font-kerning: none;"Filling up her water bottle she trudged up the stairs to do what she felt she must. Part of her was screaming out not to do this, she didn't want to cause her self anymore pain, but the other side of her brain was telling her she deserved this, if she doesn't then all the effort she had put in to this point would have been a waste. So she did it. She leant over the bath tub and slid her finger down her throat. /span/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica; -webkit-text-stroke-color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; min-height: 13px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica; -webkit-text-stroke-color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"span style="font-kerning: none;"When Bella had finished she slid down the wall and crumpled on the floor. Numb. she felt a sick sense of pride for accomplishing her purge. It made her feel strong, it almost made the binge seem okay. She thought in this moment that just maybe, she could be stronger tomorrow, eat less. /span/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica; -webkit-text-stroke-color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"span style="font-kerning: none;"She dragged her weak body up off of the cold bath room floor and down into the kitchen to clean up the evidence of her weakness. She made sure to leave out just enough to convince Charlie that she had eaten dinner and could be left alone for the rest of the night. Not that he would notice anyway, he was hardly ever home because of how hectic his job had become. Not that she minded. She liked being left alone to become consumed totally by her demons. /span/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica; -webkit-text-stroke-color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; min-height: 13px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica; -webkit-text-stroke-color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"span style="font-kerning: none;"—/span/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica; -webkit-text-stroke-color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; min-height: 13px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica; -webkit-text-stroke-color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"span style="font-kerning: none;"That was three months ago, since then the cycle of starvation, and binging and purging, continued. This was the one constant in Bella's life. She felt like it was the one thing she could rely on. Her mind was chaos, she didn't know if she was up or down. But she did know how to starve, binge and purge. Her body grew weaker and weaker. She was constantly faint, dizzy and cold. She often had to sit down, or take naps. Her throat was always sore and she seemed to constantly have a cold. The demon in her mind grew sticker and stricter. She could no longer allow her self so many slip ups. The guilt she felt during the binges escalated to such a point where she could no longer push it to the back of her mind. As a result the binges, for the most part, stopped. However, Bella missed the strong, 'on top of the world' feeling she received after purging. So she continued to push her fingers down her throat, continued to retch up what little food she allowed herself to eat. It was addictive, the high she felt after a purge, however short lived meant she kept coming back for more. /span/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica; -webkit-text-stroke-color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"span style="font-kerning: none;"5 weeks ago, Bella came home from school to find Charlie sitting at the kitchen table with a box and all of its contest sprawled across the table. /span/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica; -webkit-text-stroke-color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"span style="font-kerning: none;"Her magic little diet pills, the same ones which she carried in a little tin around school so she could take one, three times a day. /span/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica; -webkit-text-stroke-color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"span style="font-kerning: none;"The half empty pack of cigarettes, which she would sneak out when she felt a particularly strong craving for food that day. /span/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica; -webkit-text-stroke-color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"span style="font-kerning: none;"Lastly, laying on the table, directly in front of Charlie, her journal. Her food log, or whatever you want to call it. It was her most treasured possession. Full of her secrets, full of her demons' thoughts. She had meticulously written down, each item of food consumed that day. Every calorie in that food. Which calories she had purged, which she had exercised away. Every thought about food she tracked. Every hateful thought about her body had been logged. Every day, she wrote each measurement down on a blank page. Her weight, both in pounds and kilograms. Her waist size, her thighs, her arms. Each detail about her body written down and now exposed, as Charlie sits staring down, tears threatening to cascade. /span/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica; -webkit-text-stroke-color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"span style="font-kerning: none;"At this point Bella collapsed. She was on the floor, shaking rocking and crying. She could no longer hold together all of the hurt and pain which had been building inside of her. She felt betrayed Charlie had gone through her things, read her diary and looked directly into her soul. /span/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica; -webkit-text-stroke-color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; min-height: 13px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica; -webkit-text-stroke-color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"span style="font-kerning: none;"It took a week to schedule and appointment with her childhood doctor. After an excruciatingly award 20 minuets, the doctor referred her to an eating disorder specialist, who transferred her to a specialist clinic. This is where Bella and Charlie were headed now. /span/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica; -webkit-text-stroke-color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; min-height: 13px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica; -webkit-text-stroke-color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"span style="font-kerning: none;"The car was thick full of tension. Bella was scared, she didn't know what to expect from this clinic. All she knew was that after being admitted, she couldn't leave until she was better. Until the thought she was better. /span/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica; -webkit-text-stroke-color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; min-height: 13px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica; -webkit-text-stroke-color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"span style="font-kerning: none;"The car pulled into the driveway of the Seattle Mental Health Clinic. I building which was totally beige. Bella thought it reminded her of sick. An ironic though, considering what she was here to be treated for. /span/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica; -webkit-text-stroke-color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; min-height: 13px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica; -webkit-text-stroke-color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"span style="font-kerning: none;"The door of the clinic opened and an overly friendly looking nurse walked out and greeted Bella./span/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica; -webkit-text-stroke-color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"span style="font-kerning: none;"'Welcome to the clinic, I'm sure you'll be very happy here.' The welcome was said through a patronising smile as she waved Bella and her Dad up the steps and into her new home. /span/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica; -webkit-text-stroke-color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; min-height: 13px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica; -webkit-text-stroke-color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"span style="font-kerning: none;"— /span/p  
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